


What's Your Number?

by shellface



Series: For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, chanshik is a very unhelpful background character, hakyeon is old and married and wants all of his friends married too, hongbin and taekwoon are police officers, prequel to give me shelter, taekwoon is catholic af and just wants to be left alone, this is actually sort of romantic in a very awkward way, wonshik is still a rapper because of course he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9203075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellface/pseuds/shellface
Summary: A one night stand with one of Taekwoon's friends becomes much more than either one of them expected. It's just a pity Hakyeon can't keep his nose out of things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Buttercup for reading about half of this, and enjoying the Hakyeon. As always, it wouldn't have been posted without you, because I stare at my writing, consider crying, and then pretend it doesn't exist.
> 
> This is the prequel to Give Me Shelter (that no one asked for). I really enjoy the idea of oblivious!Taekwoon and far too interested Hakyeon, so here you go. I hope you enjoy it!

“Now, don't take this the wrong way,” the man, says grinning, “but you are way too pretty to be a police officer.”

Hongbin splutters, spraying his drink everywhere in a very unattractive manner. He sets the glass down on the table in between them. “I don't think there's another way to take it. Is that meant to be a compliment?”

The man – Wonshik, or at least, that's the name Taekwoon mumbled at him when he asked his name – grins even wider. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that has far too many buttons undone and hair dyed silver. He's not Hongbin's usual type, and yet he's so charming that Hongbin cannot move away. “Yes, it is.” He leans forward, and his shirt falls open, revealing a tattoo on his left pectoral muscle.

He is definitely cute, but Hongbin is not really looking for anything tonight. At least – he didn't think he was. “I'm not sure I want to be described as _pretty_ ,” he mutters dryly. “It's not exactly the most masculine of descriptions.”

“Oh, I never said you weren't masculine,” Wonshik murmurs, still leaning over the table. He can almost see his nipple, and he knows it should be sexy, but it just makes him want to laugh.

“I'm not that macho,” he shrugs, “I don't mind.” He reaches for his drink again, and though he'd never admit to it – the way his hand brushes against Wonshik's sleeve is definitely deliberate. “So,” he says, hiding his smirk with his glass, “how do you know Taekwoon?”

“I used to work in a coffee shop with him when we were kids,” Wonshik says. “And we both liked music, so – we got on.”

“And you kept in contact?”

Wonshik nods. “He's good like that, always comes to support me at showcases. I really appreciate it. And you're his...partner?”

“That is the correct term, yes,” Hongbin confirms.

“I imagine he's hard to work with,” Wonshik laughs. “He can get really intense.”

“That is most definitely true,” Hongbin feels himself lean forward, wishing he'd worn something that made him look more enticing than one of his ten thousand check shirts. Maybe even his uniform – Wonshik looks like a man attracted to a man in uniform. “And we work in missing persons. It's...hard.”

“I bet it is,” Wonshik says sympathetically. “He was telling me only the other day that you'd managed to match a missing person with a Jane Doe.”

“It was pretty horrible,” he agrees. “She'd been dead for ten years, so there's a sense of pride about it, but still – ten years. Her family were devastated. I think they'd been hoping she'd just run off to another country, or something.” He sighs, and then forces a smile. “You don't want to hear about that. Let's talk about something else.”

“I don't mind talking about it,” Wonshik says fairly. “And, well,” he shrugs, smiling in a self-deprecating way, “I'm not very interesting. I don't have a lot to say.”

“You seem quite interesting, seeing as you just performed on that stage,” Hongbin tells him, a little surprised that a man who can exhibit himself on stage is so shy in real life.

“Well, that's different,” Wonshik smiles, “that's on stage. I'm a different me, then.”

“You look pretty much the same,” Hongbin jokes, looking him up and down. He is aware that he is flirting, and he is making no move to stop himself.

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” Wonshik mirrors his words from earlier, raising an eyebrow.

Hongbin grins. No – he's not going to stop flirting. He hasn't had this much fun in ages. “Yes,” he says confidently, “it is.”

***

When he wakes up in a strange bed at eight in the morning, the first thing he thinks is, _where the fuck am I_ _._ As the memories from the night before surface, he starts a frantic search for his phone, which, when it is located, informs him that it is almost eight in the morning.

All of a sudden, it's like a bucket of ice has been poured over him. He shoots up from the bed, painfully aware that he is completely naked, and that there is a discarded condom on the floor, near his side of the bed. He is momentarily distracted from his panic. Ew. Were they really that far gone, they couldn't be bothered to put it in the bin?

Eight o'clock. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters to himself, as he throws the covers off, and stumbles out of the bed to find his clothes. Wonshik – somehow – is still snoring softly, looking so relaxed, he can't bear to say anything.

His clothes are scattered all over the apartment; his shirt is on the kitchen counter, and he has a dim memory of letting Wonshik unbutton it when they were pretending they were just going to have coffee. It was all very cliché, he thinks wryly.

He pulls his jeans on in the bedroom, his shirt still open. He looks ridiculous, he knows – hopping to zip up his least favourite pair of jeans (they're so tight and uncomfortable, he doesn't actually know why he owns them), and desperately trying to think up excuses for why he's late.

Taekwoon will not be amused, he knows. They have a lot of work to get through to today – so many case files to review, and possibly several people to informally interview. He never intended to drink so much, and he definitely didn't mean to go home with a complete stranger.

He doesn't regret it, though – which is odd, because usually, after a one night stand, he feels a little hollow. It's never usually worth it; the sex is shit, and he won't have slept properly in someone else's bed, so he's too tired to do anything the next day. This time, the sex was actually good, and he liked the man he was with – he's still tired, yes, and he didn't really sleep properly, but, for once, it kind of seems like a small price to pay.

As he buttons up his shirt, he stares at the man in the bed, conflicted. He bites his lip. Should he say something? Is it against the rules to wake him up, or something? He kind of wants to leave his number, but he doesn't really know how, and it's now – oh god, 8:37. He's so late, and he doesn't even have his stuff for work. He's so fucked.

Regretfully, he tears himself away from Wonshik, and dashes out of the house, dialing the number for a cab. If he's quick, he might get to the station for 9:30, and he can pull some bullshit about oversleeping. Taekwoon won't notice the smell of alcohol – he's not that observant.

He hopes, anyway.

***

Wonshik wakes up to an empty, rumpled bed, and feels a deep sense of disappointment. He knows he shouldn't – there was no expectation of this turning into anything more, and it is for this exact reason that he doesn't usually dabble in one night stands.

But this man felt different. He was actually having a really good night. It's not as if he wants to marry him – it would just have been nice if he hadn't dashed off without saying a word. He didn't even notice him leaving, but that's not really a shock – he's a notoriously deep sleeper.

He rolls over glumly, feeling miserable and hungover. He doesn't have anything to do today, and for that, he is thankful. He was thinking of heading to the studio, and tinkering with a couple of his rougher compositions – but he can't even face leaving his bed, right now.

His phone blinks at him from the nightstand. He has a message. His heart fills with hope – perhaps, by some miracle, Hongbin will have got his number from Taekwoon, or something, and has messaged him.

The bubble of hope bursts, however, when he sees Hakyeon's icon on the screen. Sighing, he clicks on it. The words, DID YOU HAVE FUN LAST NIGHT (in capitals, of course), accompanied by what feels like ten thousand winky faces, blink back at him.

He sighs. Hakyeon might be the nosiest person in existence, but he means well. He texts back something non-committal, hoping against hope that Jaehwan didn't see him go home with Hongbin, and text Hakyeon the gossip.

Unfortunately, he is out of luck, because Hakyeon's next text is: APPARENTLY YOU WENT HOME WITH SOMEONE LAST NIGHT. WAS HE THAT BAD? TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEE. His desperation for information is such that he actually forgoes the emojis. Wonshik is oddly flattered. He's not sure why Hakyeon is so interested.

He supposes Hakyeon doesn't get drama like this in his life any more, not since he got married, anyway.

He's about to text back, when his phone buzzes with a call. Predictably, it's Hakyeon. He rolls his eyes, but answers all the same. He could do with some cheering up, and Hakyeon's take on things is always amusing.

“So Jaehwan told me it was Taekwoon's partner you went home with,” Hakyeon says immediately, sounding slightly judgemental. “Are you sure that was the best idea? Taekwoon doesn't even know you're gay – though how, I don't know, because sometimes, you practically scream it at him.”

He sighs. “I do not scream my sexuality at Taekwoon, Hakyeon.”

“Oh, not consciously, of course, but I mean – how could anyone miss it?”

“I'm not that much of a cliché,” he mutters uncomfortably. “Anyway,” he says hurriedly, attempting to change the subject, “how the hell did Jaehwan know it was Hongbin?”

“Ooh,” Hakyeon coos down the phone, and Wonshik frowns. He is aware he is being mocked. “Hooooongbin. So you actually exchanged names before you got down and dirty?”

“Well, I needed something to scream when he fucked me, didn't I?” Wonshik says dryly. He regrets it when Hakyeon snickers delightedly.

“So he was on top, then?” He asks interestedly.

Wonshik coughs, shifting on the bed. “That is none of your business. And that was a joke, so don't you dare repeat it to Jaehwan.” He doesn't hold out much hope. He's fairly sure he's on speakerphone with both of them, or that Hakyeon is currently texting Jaehwan a live feed of their conversation.

“Fine, fine,” Hakyeon says breezily, and – not for the first time – Wonshik wonders where he finds the free time to interrogate his friends. “It's just not like you to go home with someone without having been on ten dates beforehand.”

It's true, it's not like him to go home with someone straight away, but he has been known to do it. “I just felt like it,” he hedges, not willing to admit that he might have actually really liked Hongbin. It would be a mistake to pursue it, he knows – if Taekwoon doesn't know he's gay, then he suspects that he also has no idea that Hongbin is into men, and that could do all sorts of terrible things for their working relationship.

But still. It would have been nice to see if they could have at least had dinner.

“You just felt like it,” Hakyeon repeats slowly. “Did you even get his number?”

“No,” he says quietly, “I didn't.” He can't even hide the disappointment. Even if he tried, Hakyeon can smell emotions from a mile away. “He left in the morning. He didn't even say goodbye,” he mutters resentfully.

“Oh, yeah – I know he had to be in pretty early today,” Hakyeon tells him, and he feels his spirits suddenly rise. “Because Taekwoon was moaning about it. He's been a police officer for god knows how long, and he still can't deal with shift changes. I don't understand him.”

“Oh, really?” He tries to sound casual, but he is fairly sure he's completely transparent. “Maybe that's why he left so early.”

Hakyeon is silent for a moment, and he feels his heart skip a beat. This can mean nothing good. “Do you want his number?” Hakyeon says, equally casual. “I have it, because we're friends too.” By friends, Wonshik is pretty sure he means he forced his friendship on Hongbin, and Hongbin just accepted it, because that's what you do when Hakyeon decides he wants to be friends with you.

There is a terrible, terrible urge to say yes, so he can text him and pretend it doesn't mean anything, but spend the entire day waiting for an answer. But he knows if he does, there will be a price to pay – Hakyeon's incessant teasing. “I might do.”

“I'll text it to you,” Hakyeon promises, and he is surprised by the ease of it all, until he adds the serene: “and all I require in return is for you to name your first born child after me.”

“Hakyeon, I'm not fucking marrying the guy. I'm just possibly asking him to dinner.” He is definitely asking him to dinner. He's already composing the text in his head.

“Please,” Hakyeon scoffs, “you went home with him, and desperately want his number. You're getting married. I can feeeeel it,” he laughs, a little maniacally. “And finally, I will have some married friends to play with!”

Wonshik does not even dignify that with a response.

***

Hongbin's head is aching, and he feels like he has a particularly violent strain of the flu – but he knows he doesn't, because he has already googled his symptoms ten times. Each time, he has been told that they are simply the result of a hangover – or cancer.

He really needs to stop using WebMD.

It's 12:49 in the afternoon, and he has been steadily watching the clock as it ticks its way to lunchtime. He needs to get coffee, or a cup of tea, down four asprin, and lie his head on a table for at least an hour. He's been completely useless all morning, and he knows Taekwoon is about done with him.

He's just desperately hoping he doesn't comment on his obvious hangover, because then he'll have to explain why he was so drunk last night. He can't tell Taekwoon he went home with one of his friends – and one of his male friends, to boot. Taekwoon does not know he is attracted to men, and he would like to keep it that way. They're friends, sure – but Taekwoon has certain religious beliefs that do not reconcile with having a gay partner.

He swallows. He really shouldn't have gone home with Wonshik last night. If Taekwoon finds out, he's in deep trouble – but he can't help but try to think of ways to nonchalantly ask Taekwoon for his number, so that he can apologise for just skipping out on him, and perhaps suggest meeting up.

Scratch that, he'd definitely suggest meeting up.

Taekwoon walks over, a blank look on his face. Hongbin would be worried, if that wasn't how he always looked. “You ready for lunch?”

He tries not to look too grateful. “Yeah,” he heaves himself from behind his desk. Taekwoon watches wordlessly as he clutches the wood for support. “Where are we going?”

Taekwoon shrugs. “I was thinking chicken.”

He rolls his eyes. What a surprise. “That's good with me.” He shrugs his coat on, patting the pockets for his wallet. Taekwoon looks at him for a moment. “What?” He asks uneasily.

“You disappeared early last night,” he tells him, as if he didn't already know. “And you look like shit, so you're obviously hungover.”

He actually thought he'd done quite a good job of hiding how little sleep he got last night, but clearly not, if even Taekwoon can see it. “I had a few drinks, yeah,” he shrugs. “It's not a crime,” he adds defensively. His stomach is churning, and not just from his hangover.

“Did you pull a girl, or something?” Taekwoon asks, as they begin to head out of the door.

Hongbin forces himself not to sigh with relief. “Something like that,” he agrees. Pulling Wonshik was nothing like pulling a girl – but Taekwoon doesn't need to know that.

He feels a pang of regret. He definitely can't ask Taekwoon for Wonshik's number now.

***

Taekwoon is devouring his food, but his stomach is still uneasy. He's staring at his food regretfully, when his phone buzzes.

Curiously, he takes it out of his pocket. He's not really expecting anyone to message him; he knows Chanshik is busy, and his family aren't great texters. Hakyeon might have sent some meme of an adorable cat or something, but he doubts it.

The number is not in his contacts, and he doesn't recognise it. When he sees the name _Wonshik_ , his heart starts thudding, and he clicks on it immediately.

 _Hey_ , the text starts, _I'm Wonshik. We met yesterday? Hakyeon gave me your number, and I was just wondering if you wanted to go for dinner sometime. I had a really good time last night._

He can feel the smile spreading across his face, and he looks down immediately, so that Taekwoon cannot start questioning it. He needn't have bothered – once food is involved, Taekwoon has no time for anything else.

 _I'm free most nights this week_ , he texts back. He's not, but Chanshik can just deal without him for once. _When are you free?_

The response is almost immediate. _How about tomorrow night?_

 _That's good for me_. He bites his lip, and takes a sip of his drink, waiting for the reply.

 _7:00 good for you?_ He swallows. He can make it. He's just going to have to lie to Taekwoon about where he is.

Not that he doesn't do a lot of that, anyway.

***

Wonshik spends the entirety of the next day panicking that he has got the date and time of the date wrong, and has to check their conversation several times to make sure he is right. It takes a lot of scrolling, because they have been steadily texting throughout the day. Hongbin is sarcastic, and very dryly funny, and they bounce off each other easily.

He's also very, very cute. He stares at his closet for a moment, strangely nervous. His phone buzzes, but he knows it is just Taemin bollocking him for cancelling their plans. He has other things to panic about right now, like what the hell he is supposed to wear to meet the hottest police officer he's ever met.

Usually, he just goes in whatever he's wearing that day – or just a nice shirt, and trousers. But for some reason, he feels an urge to look as good as he possibly can tonight. He wants to give Hongbin every reason to go on another date with him.

His phone buzzes again, and irritated, he grabs it. The time stares back at him: 6:11 PM. _Fuck._ He throws open the doors, and – rifling through everything he owns for a moment – he hastily grabs his most expensive pair of jeans and a shirt he's fairly sure he washed in the last week. It will have to do.

He dresses as quickly as he possibly can, spritzes aftershave and grabs his keys. His taxi is waiting for him as he sprints out of the door, and just as he is sliding into the backseat, he remembers that he'd _just_ washed his favourite shirt.

Oh well. Hongbin will just have to like him as he is.

When he arrives, Hongbin is already waiting outside of the restaurant, slouched nervously against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He looks good. _Really_ good.

“Hi,” he says nervously, and Hongbin gives him an awkward, twitchy smile.

“Hey,” he says back. He stands still for a moment, then swallows. Wonshik watches his neck bob. “So, shall we go in?”

He nods. “Do you, uh, come here often?” He asks, cringing at how ridiculous he sounds.

Hongbin's mouth curves into a grin. “You picked this place out, if I remember right,” he says playfully.

“Yeah,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck bashfully, “I just realised.”

Hongbin pushes the door open, his smile reassuring. “Let's eat, shall we?”

***

A couple of hours in, and they're holding hands across the table. He's already moved in to kiss him twice, and Hongbin's other hand is on his knee under the table. They've eaten what has had to be the best meal he's had in ages, and currently, they are eating spoonfuls of each other's dessert. It's grossly cute, and Wonshik is in seventh heaven. It's no secret that he is a romantic at heart, and this is the kind of shit that gets his heart racing.

Hongbin finishes the last bite of whatever it was he ordered. Wonshik isn't sure. All he knows is that it tasted delicious, and he possibly should have ordered that instead of his cheesecake. “So,” he says, his thumb rubbing circles against his palm. “What should we do now?”

When Wonshik looks up at him from cheesecake, his smile is warm. “I don't know,” he sets his fork down. “What are you thinking of doing?”

Hongbin laughs. “I think you know what I'm thinking.” His hand is still on his knee, massaging gently, and Wonshik feels an answering stir of arousal in his groin. He could go home with him. He could do it, and have a very enjoyable night in Hongbin's bed.

He wants to – _god_ , he wants to – but he's not so sure it's a good idea. They've already started this with sex – he's not sure he wants to do it again, not right away. It might not set the right precedent.

“I would love to,” he starts, linking his fingers with Hongbin's and squeezing gently. “But I'm not so sure it's a good idea.”

Hongbin looks a little surprised, but there is a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. Wonshik's heart thumps hopefully. “Early morning?” He asks.

Wonshik nods gratefully, glad for the excuse. “Yes. But I would love to do this – or something like it – again,” he says earnestly. “I've had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Me too,” Hongbin promises. “And I have a day off Sunday. If that's good for you,” he adds hastily.

Wonshik smiles. “Sunday is perfect for me.”

***

Sunday rolls around, and Hongbin is up four hours early, stress-cleaning his kitchen. It is already clean, and – if he's honest – he doesn't do a whole lot of actual cooking. It does not need to be scrubbed, but he's scrubbing it anyway.

He's nervous. Why is he nervous? They've had sex, then had a very successful date. This is all shaping up very nicely – there is absolutely no need to be worried. But he is. He supposes he wouldn't be himself if he wasn't panicking about everything that could go wrong.

Chanshik has been no help. He texted him, and he just sent ten laughing faces in response, which Hongbin is sure is revenge for cancelling their plans to go on a date. Why does he have absolutely useless friends?

All he wanted was a little advice on where to take Wonshik, but no – that's too difficult for Chanshik. He glares at his silent phone for a second, until it buzzes. He looks at it in surprise.

Wonshik's icon pops up onscreen, along with the words: _Can't wait for tonight._ The knot in his stomach eases, just a little.

He can do this.

***

“I know it's dumb,” Hongbin admits, “but I really like arcades. And I thought it might be – fun?” He almost feels like closing his eyes so that he can't see Wonshik's what-the-fuck expression. He knows his hands are clenched by his sides, because he's an anxious mess, and he really wishes he could hide it – but he can't.

But when he looks at him, Wonshik is grinning in delight. “I love arcades,” he says. “I'm really good at the darts game.”

Slowly, he unclenches his fists. “Then you can win me something,” he teases.

“Only if you win me something, too,” Wonshik counters, smirking.

Hongbin nods. “Oh, I will,” he promises, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up. He looks furtive. “Just so you know – I have a tendency to get a little...obsessed with these games.”

Wonshik laughs. “I'm sure you're exaggerating.”

He soon learns that no, Hongbin is not exaggerating, but there is something fascinating about watching him work a claw machine. The ease with which he manoeuvres it is astonishing, as claw machines have always been some kind of witchcraft to him.

First it's a minion from Despicable Me, then a particularly large Stitch; a Gudetama comes next, and finally – because he asked him to try it – a dinky little No-Face from the smaller machines. As Hongbin hands it over, smirking, he kisses him. “Thank you,” he says, arms full of stuffed toys. He makes a note to give the Stitch to his sister the next time he sees her. “You're very...impressive.”

Hongbin shrugs, cheeks flushing. “Want to play something else? I realise I've basically monopolised the date right now.”

He nods his head towards a vintage Pac Man machine. “Bet I can beat you at Pac-Man,” he challenges, grinning cheekily. “Or perhaps, Skee-Ball?”

Hongbin sweeps an arm across the room, bowing. “Lead the way.”

Wonshik discovers he is not great at Pac-Man, but he's better at Skee-Ball. Hongbin is fairly good too, and they spend an enjoyable half hour ribbing each other about who's better. When Hongbin bets that he can't get the high score on the boxing machine, he has to give it a go. It's with disbelieving eyes that Hongbin watches him get an (almost) perfect score.

“That was impressive,” he tells him, eyes lingering on the muscles visible even through his shirt. “I liked the way you smashed into it,” he grins, eyes travelling up to rest on his face.

“You have to do it dramatically,” Wonshik shrugs, “it's the rule.”

“If you say so.” Hongbin gaze is intense, and Wonshik dips his head, feeling ridiculously shy. “Want to go get food now? I'm famished.”

He is beginning to think that Hongbin might be the perfect man.

***

As the weeks turn into months, Hongbin finds that Wonshik is slowly inserting himself into his life. His favourite cereal is in his cupboard; the protein shake powder he prefers on the counter. They go to the gym together, because Wonshik decided to sign him up to the same gym he goes to. He has set aside a whole drawer for Wonshik's underwear, and one of the extra toothbrushes in his bathroom is specifically for him.

It's the same situation in Wonshik's apartment: his favourite blend of tea is in the kitchen, his shower gel in the bathroom, and his clothes folded neatly in one side of the closet. He has also categorised Wonshik's music collection, and organised his kitchen so that it is much easier to find things – but he would have done that anyway. He can't stand mess, which is why Wonshik has taken to kissing him to distract him from the washing up. It is – unfortunately – an excellent tactic.

They still haven't worked out the sleeping situation, but he didn't expect them to. He's a light sleeper at the best of times, and he doesn't really like sharing a bed – but Wonshik is a big cuddler, and how can he say no, when he looks so good against the pillows?

Slowly, he inches out from underneath Wonshik. He knows that he doesn't need to be quite so careful; even if he managed to throw Wonshik on the floor, he'd only mumble and go right back to sleep. It is endearing and just that little bit annoying, but he deals with it. They're still in their honeymoon period; everything is cute and vomit-inducing.

He's really not one for romance, but he knows Wonshik is, and he wants to make breakfast for him. They were both up late last night, and neither one of them has had much time to be together so...he wants to do something nice.

He just hopes Wonshik doesn't tell Hakyeon about it, because if he does, he will never hear the end of it.

The kitchen is quiet, and when he snaps the light on, he sees that Wonshik has left his nightly snack plate on the side. He rolls his eyes, and sets it aside to clean it later. Wonshik will see it, and get a bit crabby about the fact he can't leave things alone, but then he'll kiss him, and maybe it will go a bit further and everything will be forgiven again.

He has to admit, he does like the early days of a relationship. And this relationship is definitely one of his best – not that he's had that many. Every relationship he has is usually two weeks maximum, and he's the one to break it off because it's just not worth it.

This one is, but he's not willing to say anything about it yet – it's too new, too precious. He feels as if the spell will be broken if he starts putting labels on things, and he doesn't want this ruined. It's going somewhere – somewhere good – and he can't bear the idea of his nosy (if well-meaning) friends getting involved.

He grabs two bowls from the cupboard, and he's just considering toast when he hears the door unlock. He turns around in surprise, suddenly aware that he is wearing nothing but his underwear.

Who the fuck has a key to Wonshik's apartment? He's just about to start wondering if Wonshik perhaps has another boyfriend, when the door opens, and a woman he recognises from the many, many photoframes Wonshik has scattered around his home walks in.

She stops dead when she sees him – a strange man, practically naked – in her brother's kitchen. She stares at him for a second before blinking. “Um, hello?”

He cringes. “Um, hey. I – I'm Hongbin?” He closes his eyes. How the hell is that helping? She won't have any idea who he is. He could be a mass murderer for all she knows.

Her face clears. “Oh!” Her cheeks flush when looks down, and notices his distinct lack of clothing. “Wonshik's, uh, mentioned you.” She casts her gaze around the room, looking at anything but him. “Is he...around?”

As if the sound of his own name has awoken him, Wonshik emerges in the doorway. He's bleary-eyed, and he doesn't even look as he wraps his arms around Hongbin and begins to press sleepy kisses on his shoulder. “You don't have to make breakfast,” he murmurs, “I prefer it when you – ”

Hongbin stops his hand as it travels down to an area his sister really doesn't need to see. “Jiwon is here, Wonshik,” he says in a strangled voice.

Immediately, Wonshik's hand drops, and he takes a step back. Jiwon waves awkwardly. “Hi.”

He rushes forward to hug her, and Hongbin is left feeling like a lemon in the corner. “You didn't say you were coming over!”

She hugs him back, still looking extremely awkward. Hongbin is attempting to slink off, back into the bedroom, so he can lock himself in until they're done – but Wonshik stops him, grasping his arm gently.

Wonshik pulls back. “Um, so, you've met Hongbin. My boyfriend,” he adds meaningfully.

“Uh, yes,” she says, still determinedly looking anywhere but him. “I'm Jiwon,” she adds unnecessarily.

“Wonshik's told me about you,” he mutters. “He's very proud.”

“He's too nice,” she says wryly, and when she smiles, she looks so much like her brother, he can't help but like her. “I just came out to surprise Wonshik, and maybe take him for breakfast – but I can see you're...busy.”

“No, no!” Wonshik insists. “Let us get dressed, and we can all go, okay?”

“Um, sure. If you want.” She looks at the floor. “I don't want to interrupt anything.”

Hongbin is seized by the terrible urge to tell her that everything happened last night, so she's not interrupting anything. But he doesn't, because he is afraid of making a bad impression.

“You're not interrupting anything,” Wonshik tells her tenderly, and Hongbin feels guilty. He knows how much Wonshik loves his baby sister (she's only two years younger, but apparently, that still makes her a baby. He doesn't ask). He doesn't want to ruin their time together.

“Look,” he says, gently loosening Wonshik's hold on his wrist. “I can go home, let you guys have the day together. We can see each other tomorrow, yeah?” Chanshik's been grousing about he never sees him any more, anyway.

“No,” Wonshik shakes his head firmly. “I was going to introduce you anyway, so – stay. We keep missing each other anyway, and I'd like to have breakfast with you. Please?”

It's the _please_ that gets him, as Wonshik knew it would. “If you're sure,” he coughs awkwardly. Wonshik leans forward, cupping the side of his face with one hand. He kisses him gently, and he can't help but kiss back, despite the fact that his sister is right there, watching them.

He doesn't think he's ever met someone's sister before, especially not a sister that is so beloved. It is a very weird situation for him.

But not one he is unhappy with.

***

When Hakyeon calls him at work the next day, he is almost expecting it. Hakyeon has a sixth sense for developments in other people's lives, he is sure. It is creepy, but nothing about Hakyeon surprises him any more. He gives a resigned sigh as he answers. “Yes?”

“Yes? That's all I get?” Hakyeon is too excited to sound truly grumpy. “I hear you met Wonshik's sister yesterday,” he sing-songs, and Hongbin considers putting the phone down on him. It's not worth it. He'd just continue calling throughout the day until he gave in.

“I might have,” he says, trying to sound aloof. “How the hell did you hear about it?”

“Facebook,” Hakyeon says promptly, and he raises his eyebrows. Figures. Wonshik probably posted ten photos of them all together. “You guys looked really cute. Are you moving in together?”

He splutters. “What the hell? We've only been dating a couple of months.” They haven't even said _I love you_ yet. He's not moving in with someone he doesn't know if he loves yet.

Okay, that might be a lie. He sort of knows he loves Wonshik. _Sort of._

“Well, it all seems to be getting really serious,” Hakyeon announces. “He doesn't introduce his sister to everyone, you know. You must be important, if he's willing to let you near her.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not trying to burst your bubble, Hakyeon, but we only met because she came into his flat unannounced, and I was practically naked in the kitchen. It was all supremely awkward.”

Hakyeon sniggers. He's still laughing when he replies. “Only you, Hongbin, only you. Doesn't matter. If he wasn't serious about you, he'd have sent you away or something. He wouldn't have taken you out to breakfast with her.”

“Maybe,” Hongbin allows. “And he actually paid for the food, which was shocking.” He's picked up the tab numerous times, but Wonshik has a very clever habit of slipping out of paying for things – unless it's a date he chose, and then he pays for everything. He's a strange individual.

“Told you,” Hakyeon crows. “You're getting close to moving in, I can feel it,” he tells him confidently. “This is all going exactly as I hoped it would.”

“How nice for you,” Hongbin replies dryly. He doesn't add that it is also going exactly as he wants it, too; Hakyeon would only make fun of him.

***

Hakyeon gives a huge sigh, staring at his phone. Taekwoon gives him an odd look, as he takes another gulp of coffee. “What's wrong with you?”

“I think Wonshik's annoyed with me,” he says sadly.

Taekwoon raises an eyebrow. “Why would Wonshik be mad at you? He can't sustain anger.” He waves a hand. “Just leave it for a bit, and he'll get over it. He does it a lot with me.”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that's because you're an asshole. We don't all aspire to piss people off by just being ourselves, Taekwoon.”

“I don't do that,” Taekwoon says, looking offended. He stabs his fork into his cake. “I'm a nice person.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He heaves another sigh. “I knew I shouldn't have taken Hongbin out on his birthday,” he mutters regretfully. “I should have waited until the day after. Oh well. What's done is done.” He sets his phone aside. “I'm sure he'll forgive me eventually,” he says, suddenly more cheerful, as he spies his cake being brought over to the table. It's not fair. Taekwoon _always_ gets his food before he does.

“Why the fuck would Wonshik be mad at you for taking Hongbin out on his birthday?” Taekwoon asks, through a mouthful of cake. “They don't even know each other.”

Hakyeon drags his gaze away from his oncoming cake. “What?” He asks stupidly. Taekwoon can't be _that_ blind...can he?

Wait, no. He _knows_ he can.

“They don't know each other,” Taekwoon repeats, through another mouthful of cake. “It doesn't make sense.”

“They do,” Hakyeon tells him, still shocked at how unobservant Taekwoon is. “Haven't you seen them on Facebook?” And every other social media site Wonshik has an account on.

Taekwoon shrugs. “I don't check Facebook that often, unless my sisters tell me to go check out their photos.”

“Oh. Well. They're practically living together,” he says, thanking the server as she places a plate of cake in front of him. He unwraps his fork.

“Wonshik's moving?” Taekwoon looks up, puzzled. “But he loves his apartment. And Hongbin doesn't need to move, he got a really good deal on his rent.”

Hakyeon stares. He knows Taekwoon's not the brightest spark, but – _really?_ He sets his fork down. This requires his full concentration. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?” Taekwoon says irritably, his cake demolished. He looks hopefully at Hakyeon's, and he moves it away from him. He's had Taekwoon rob food before, and it's not happening again. They might be best friends, but food is sacred.

“God,” he rolls his eyes so far, he swears he can see brain. “They know each other, Taekwoon. Biblically.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Taekwoon is getting grumpy, now, and Hakyeon is lost. Wonshik and Hongbin are so obvious, he can't understand how Taekwoon has missed it.

“You're Catholic,” he reminds him. “You know what that means!”

“Hongbin's not gay,” Taekwoon snorts. Hakyeon just looks at him, and his expression turns disbelieving. “They're together?” He asks, and Hakyeon genuinely considers singing _hallelujah._ Instead, he forks some cake into his mouth, and nods silently. “I didn't even know they were friends.”

Hakyeon swallows the cake. “I don't think they were ever 'friends', exactly.”

“Hongbin and Wonshik are gay?” He asks, and Hakyeon nods. “And they're together?” He nods again. “I never even had an inkling.” He shakes his head, and casually attempts to take a forkful of Hakyeon's cake. He shoves his hand away. “I'm going to have to have a serious talk with them,” he mutters darkly.

Oh. Oh no.

What has he done?

***

Wonshik is halfway in Hongbin's lap when his butt buzzes with a text. Hongbin laughs against his mouth. “God that would be weird, if I didn't know you keep your phone in your back pocket, like a weirdo.”

“Shut up,” Wonshik mutters, but kisses him anyway. He tugs it out of his pocket, with some difficulty, because Hongbin is busy attempting to divest him of his clothes. It is still buzzing with texts, even as he pulls it out. “Oh. It's Hakyeon. He's clearly had a bit of an emoji explosion again.”

All he can see are crying faces. He rolls his eyes, and is about to set his phone aside, when Hongbin pulls his out. His phone is buzzing incessantly too, and he unlocks it impatiently. “God, I wish Hakyeon would quit with all of the emojis. They make my phone crash.”

“That's because you desperately need a new phone,” Wonshik points out.

Hongbin raises an eyebrow at him. “Not all of us need the latest thing the moment it comes out.”

“You didn't say that when the new Xbox came out, did you?” Wonshik grins, glad to have one up on him.

“Shh,” Hongbin says, grinning back. “I'm reading.” His face drops as he scrolls through millions of crying faces. “Oh god.”

“What?” Wonshik says, worried by the look on his face. “What's happened? Is someone hurt?”

Hongbin's face is pale. “He's told Taekwoon about us. Apparently by accident, but you can never trust him. _Fuck._ ” He swears to himself. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“Well,” Wonshik sighs, “he was going to find out eventually.”

“I _work_ with him,” Hongbin stresses, “he's my fucking partner. And I know he can't deal with this.” He pulls away from Wonshik, still cursing. “I can't go into work tomorrow.”

Wonshik refuses to get off of him. “It will be fine, Hongbin, I promise.”

“It won't.” There is genuine fear in Hongbin's voice. “I don't talk about this shit at work for good reason. People aren't exactly...understanding.”

When Wonshik wraps his arms around him, he can feel that he is shaking. “Hongbin, come on. They can't fire you for being with me.”

“No,” Hongbin allows, “but they can make life difficult for me. Taekwoon isn't going to forgive this.”

“Have you ever thought,” Wonshik tries gently, “that if someone he respected was gay, he might start to understand?”

Hongbin snorts. “He doesn't respect me.”

“He speaks quite highly of you,” Wonshik's voice is soft. “For Taekwoon, that is.”

Slowly, Hongbin looks up. Wonshik's eyes are warm and sympathetic, but his tone is still firm. He can't help but think that even if Taekwoon does hate him – Wonshik is worth it. “I love you,” he says quietly.

Wonshik looks surprised, but pleased. “I love you too.” He smiles. “But you're still going to work.”

“I can't face Taekwoon.” Hongbin shakes his head furiously. “Not until I've come up with an explanation that will stop him from judging me.”

“Like what?” Wonshik says doubtfully. “There isn't one.”

“I'll just tell him you seduced me, like the evil tempter you are,” Hongbin grins impishly.

“As I recall, it was your idea to go home with me. I think you were the one who instigated this,” Wonshik laughs as Hongbin pulls him closer. “It was you,” he swears, as Hongbin kisses him.

“We can agree to disagree,” he promises. “At least, we can around Taekwoon.”

Wonshik rolls his eyes. “Whatever makes you happy.”

 


End file.
